


Present

by myth_taken



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Christmas, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 03:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myth_taken/pseuds/myth_taken
Summary: Buffy examined the tree, then picked three ornaments off it.“Third, sixth, and tenth grade. All immortalized in the form of an ornament.”Faith shrugged. “I looked bad when I was eight anyway.”--Buffy doesn't have to leave on Christmas Eve, so she sticks around and has a good time with Faith and Joyce.





	Present

**Author's Note:**

> technically this is my second of hopefully three fics for fuffy day, but the fuffy isn't quite romantic. don't worry they're still gay as hell

Buffy ran back down the stairs, laden with gifts.

“I didn’t expect you,” she told Faith, “so it’s a good thing I was planning to give this to you anyway.” 

Faith grabbed at the package, but Buffy snatched it away. “Not yet, greedy! This goes under the tree, and we all open together.”

“Well, what do we do now if it’s not presents?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Dinner, silly!” She ran to the tree and tucked the gifts underneath, then went back to Faith. “This is the part where all sit in the kitchen and wait for the turkey to be done.”

Faith laughed. “I thought turkey was Thanksgiving.”

“You know,” Buffy said, “you’re right. Christmas might be duck.” She turned to her mother. “Mom, which one is it?”

“We have duck,” her mom answered. “And I really should check on that.”

Buffy and Faith followed her into the kitchen, where they leaned on the counter and watched Joyce check the oven.

“Done yet?” Buffy asked.

“A few more minutes. Why don’t you two sit down, and I’ll come in when it’s ready?”

Buffy shrugged. “Okay.” She led Faith into the dining room, where Faith immediately set herself to examining the china plate.

“This is beautiful,” she breathed.

“Yeah, those are our special plates that no one’s allowed to touch unless it’s Christmas.” Buffy reached across the table and pointed. “See the little tree design?”

Faith nodded. 

“That signifies that you can’t ever use these on a regular day or else God’s angels will come down and smite you.”

Faith laughed. “I think I’ve met one of those angels.”

“Really?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah. Name was Brad. Pretty nice, but kind of foreboding, and the wings were pretty distracting.”

“No way.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I made that one up,” Faith admitted.

Buffy opened her mouth to reply, but she was saved the trouble by Joyce coming in, holding a huge platter over her head. 

“Okay, here’s the duck,” she said, “and I’ll be right back with the sides.”

Finally, they were all seated around the table, and Joyce cut into the duck.

“Faith?” 

Faith jolted. “Huh?”

“Duck?”

“Oh! Yes, please.” She held up her plate. “Sorry, I was just amazed at how wonderful your dinner looks.”

“Thank you,” Joyce said, giving Faith a generous slab of meat. “Buffy?”

“Can I have the drumstick?” Buffy held up her plate.

“Of course.” 

Buffy had been worried about Faith’s presence; past Christmases had always only been her and one or both parents. But she found that she liked sharing it, and Faith seemed to need it. 

Dinner passed with smiles and laughter and tall tales from both Buffy and Faith, followed by worried mutterings from Joyce. They had a pecan pie for dessert, another thing which Faith had obviously never seen, and then it was time for presents.

Buffy practically bounced into the living room, running to the tree.

“See, Faith, the best part of Christmas is finding all the things with your name on them under the tree.”

Faith shrugged. “Never had a tree.”

“Well, you’re sharing ours,” Buffy announced. “We’ll get an ornament with your face on it and everything.”

Faith laughed. “You don’t seriously mean your face is on that tree.”

Buffy examined the tree, then picked three ornaments off it. 

“Third, sixth, and tenth grade. All immortalized in the form of an ornament.”

Faith shrugged. “I looked bad when I was eight anyway.”

“Yeah, but you’re pretty cute at seventeen,” Buffy countered. “Therefore, you must be part of our tree.”

“Can I sit on top instead?” Faith asked. “I mean, some people have an angel, right?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “You can go wherever you want, Faith. God knows I can’t stop you.”

Joyce entered, carrying a tray with hot cider. 

“Ah, yes,” Buffy said. “Just what we need. More hot to counter the overwhelming cold outside.”

“You know you love it,” Joyce chided.

“Yeah, I love it,” Buffy admitted. “Present time?” She tossed Faith a package. “I think Mom got you something too, but you have to find that one yourself.” Buffy placed a floppy bundle in front of her mother. “And you can’t touch this one, or you’ll know what it is.”

“I’m guessing clothes,” Joyce said.

“You won’t know until you open it,” Buffy replied.

Faith had been poking around under the tree. She finally emerged, not with her present from Joyce, but with her presents to her hosts. She offered one to Buffy, her hand shaking. “It’s crappy,” she said.

“Sure it is,” Buffy answered, leveling Faith with a look.

Faith tossed the other one across the room to Joyce.

Buffy found her present from her mom and one from her dad and sat down on the floor. The only one left was Faith’s from Joyce, which Faith snatched up and hugged to her chest as she sat down on the end of the couch opposite Joyce. 

“You first,” Buffy said, nodding to Faith. 

Faith took her gift from Joyce and ripped the paper off, looking at the resultant leather jacket in awe. “This is too much,” she said.

“No, it’s not,” Joyce said. “You need it for your Slaying. See, I added a stake pocket on the inside, and it’s got removable lining so that you’ll never be too cold on those nighttime patrols.”

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Faith said.

“That’s the joy of Christmas,” Buffy answered. “Everyone goes way too far, and then everyone else tells them so. Better enjoy it while you can.” She looked to her mother. “Am I next?”

“Sure, Buffy.”

Buffy pounced on the package Faith had given her, untwisting each end. “Why do I get the feeling that this is a stake? I’m more than just a Slayer, you know.”

“Sorry.”

“I was teasing.” Buffy pulled the stake out of the wrapping. She ran her fingers over the obviously hand-carved design in the handle and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Faith asked.

“I got you the same thing,” Buffy told her. “Amateur engraving and all.”

Faith grinned and picked up her present from Buffy. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, patrolling is usually a whole lot of nothing, so I figured why not make use of it? And anyway, when the vampires attacked, I had a stake right there to get them with! Your stake has been tested in the field. It works very well.”

“Good to know I’m safe.” Faith shot Buffy a grin, holding up the new stake. “Thanks, B.”

“My turn now?” Joyce asked, picking up the package Faith had given her.

“Yup!” Buffy spun to face her mother. “Let’s see it.”

Joyce slipped a finger into the wrapping and folded it back, shaking a book out of the paper. Buffy couldn’t quite see what it was, but it looked like some art history thing. Boring for Buffy, but her mom liked that kind of thing. 

“Sorry if it’s bad,” Faith said. “I just knew you run a gallery, so I thought you might like that.”

Joyce stood and pulled Faith into a hug. Buffy almost laughed at how confused Faith looked by it, her arms flailing, her mouth open, but she didn’t-- she couldn’t imagine being confused by motherly affection, even after she had been kicked out.

Presents done with, it was time for the annual viewing of  _ How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  _ Buffy got out the DVD, Joyce put it in the player, and Faith watched them.

“I didn’t know they made that into a movie.”

“I think it was a TV special,” Buffy said. “It’s not long. But it’s a tradition.”

“You two sure have a lot of those.”

Buffy shrugged. “It’s nice. The first time we were in Sunnydale, Christmas was what made it feel like home, I guess.”

Faith leaned back on the couch. “Well, I guess I’m ready for some good old Summers tradition, then.”

When the show was over, Faith stood up. “I should probably go,” she said. “It’s getting late.”

“Too late for you to walk back to that motel by yourself,” Joyce said. “Buffy, would you get the air mattress out?”

“She can just sleep in my bed, Mom,” Buffy said. “It’s big enough for two. Assuming she doesn’t kick.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” Faith said, already edging towards the door.

“No one’s a bother on Christmas,” Joyce said. “And you can’t go back to that awful motel on Christmas, either. It would be unjust.”

Indecision flickered on Faith’s face, but finally she shrugged. “You better not snore, B.”

When Faith got up to Buffy’s room, she realized something: she hadn’t brought pajamas. She didn’t even  _ own _ pajamas. When she was alone, she just stripped to a tank top and underwear, but that wasn’t going to fly in someone else’s room, no matter how much she liked making Buffy uncomfortable.

Fortunately, Buffy in her far-too-cute yummy sushi pajamas was there to save the day. As it turned out, she basically collected pajamas, and Faith managed to find a nightgown that wasn’t all that mortifying. It was still white lace, but at least it was tasteful, unlike the pair that was covered in hearts or the nightgown that had little smiley faces all over it. Faith knew she’d be teasing Buffy for that until the end of time.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress before,” Buffy remarked when Faith stepped out of the bathroom.

“Homecoming,” Faith said. “Little black thing?”

Buffy smiled. “Right. That. I guess I’m just not used to seeing you look like you’re actually seventeen.”

“What do I look like normally?” Faith asked. It was almost a challenge, but not quite.

“Someone who had to grow up too fast,” Buffy told her.

Faith shrugged. “Well, I go to school with you now and everything. I guess I can try being seventeen for a while.” She flopped down on the bed. “This something a seventeen-year-old does?”

“A seventeen-year-old has sleepovers,” Buffy said, “and stays up super late watching movies and painting nails, and actually does her homework…”

“You don’t do your homework.”

“I have a side job,” Buffy said. “It’s justified. But you’re not getting out of letting me paint your nails.”

“As long as they’re black.”


End file.
